When Our Worlds Collide
by ellllliiiieeeee
Summary: Hazel Grace and Augustus Waters had a special kind of infinity, despite their cancer. Monica Simpson and Isaac Renn had a forbidden love. But when Isaac and Hazel's lives are taken because of cancer, Augustus seeks to find shelter in a place where there is no fault in his stars. And then he met Monica. The two learn to mend together and love blooms unexpectedly. But is it okay?
1. How to Mend

"Hazel?"

I grip her hand, my voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. Her eyelids are closed, her breathing ragged. I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing she's balanced treacherously between the world of life and death.

I lean and graze my lips over hers. She manages a weak smile. "A-Augustus," she manages, gasping. I place a hand on her forehead, forcing my voice to be gentle. "Hazel Grace," I say. Hazel's body trembles as she tries to suck in air. I press my lips to her ear. "Keep fighting," I whisper. "Fight for me. Fight for your family."

Hazel's eyes squeeze shut, but snap back open. "Gus … Gus, I love you and-"

She can't even finish her sentence before she's sent to heaven.

My body clenches up. I squeeze her hand, wondering if my touch can find her soul in the world above and bring her back down to me. She loved me. With all her heart. But she couldn't even finish one damn sentence before dying.

Tears well up in my blood-shot eyes and I place my forehead on her already-cold shoulder blades, under her chin, breathing in her lilac scent that already seems to be fading away. An animal-like cry bursts through my chest and my body trembles. I convulse and I feel like screaming and cursing and kicking and destroying …

But even if I did all of that, my dear Hazel is still gone.

I finally look up. Her green eyes are still her green eyes and her beautiful face is still her beautiful face. She's still Hazel. A Hazel with an un-beating heart and cold skin, _but she's still Hazel._

A dead Hazel.

. . .

"Monica?"

Isaac's voice is surprised and relieved. Though I can sense a layer of hurt under his tone, I rush up to his hospital bed, a strangled cry bursting from my lips. "Oh, Isaac!" I pull up a chair and shower his face with kisses. He is blind but can still feel my touch. "Monica …"

I take his hand and squeeze, my bottom lip trembling. I got a phone call that Isaac's cancer had moved from his eyes to the rest of his body. They had tried to operate, but the operation went wrong.

And now, my poor, blind, weak Isaac is lying on a white hospital bed, slowly dying in front of my eyes.

Isaac's hand gropes for my face and I let his fingers run over my eyes, nose, and lips. "It really is you," he croaks. "But why should I care?" his weak voice grows hard. "You abandoned me when I went blind. Didn't even call, text, visit. Why'd you visit me anyway, bi-"

I place a finger to his lips and wince. "Isaac … my mom deleted your phone number off my phone once she learned you were going blind. She set me up with this other rich guy and didn't want me to have anything to do with you. Isaac, my love – my mother was the thwart in our love. I'm so sorry … but she didn't want me to have anything to do with you."

Isaac's body shakes. "You still love me," he whispers. I place my lips to his. "Always," I murmur. Isaac's hand reaches up and awkwardly combs through my hair. A slight laugh tremors through my lips.

"A-Always," he manages, growing weaker by the second.

I grasp his neck. "Don't let the cancer take you!" I hiss urgently. My heart pools with dread at the thought without Isaac. The blind boy in my arms shakes his head. "It's to-too late…" he croaks. His lips slightly open. "What the hell, whatever. Monica … I'm glad that … _always."_

"Always," I agree.

And then his arm ceases combing my hair. It drops to his side limply, and his eyes close, and I know that he's already taken his last breath.

. . .

"Gus?"

I turn and see Hazel's mom standing on the front steps of the hospital. I turn. "Yeah?" I say weakly, not wanting to talk. Hazel's pale, lifeless image still haunts my mind.

Her Mom's eyes grow sad. She walks forward lightly and embraces me. "I'm so, so sorry," she whispers. I feel my throat close up. "Yeah," I say again. Hazel's dad has a tissue pressed to his eyelids, but he manages to croak two words: "You okay?"

"Yeah," I say for the third time. "Guess I just need to … have some time by myself."

Hazel's mom pulls away, her hands grasping my shoulders. "Of course, Gus." She says confidently. Up close, her eyes are watery, but she's resisting to cry. She's trying not to break down in front of me. She's being brave. _I need to be brave too._

Hazel's mom places a quick kiss on my forehead, then lets her hands drop to her sides. I wave once to her and Hazel's dad, then turn and head down the sidewalk. My head is bowed and I will my feet to guide me to my car. Hazel's laughter and voice echo in my mind, and I find it hard not to yell out loud. What did I do to deserve this?

And that's when I see her.

Dark brown hair, bright blue eyes. Tan. Skinny. _Monica._

I look away, not wanting to be noticed. But she sees me first, and cautiously approaches me. Up close, her coal-black mascara is running down her cheeks from crying. I've heard about Isaac. Immediately, guilt rams through me – I didn't even see him before he took in his dying breath.

"Augustus, right?" Monica says hesitantly. I nod. "I heard about Hazel," she says, bottom lip trembling. I nod again. The 'yeah' adventure all over again.

Monica bites her lip and throws her arms around me. Surprised, I stand stiffly as she hugs me. I hear her sobs in my shirt. Through her cries, I hear the words 'Isaac'. Oh yes, and a ton of 'always'.

Finally, when Monica's finished with her emotional break-down, she pulls away and gazes up at me with glistening eyes. "Maybe we can learn to mend together," she whispers, studying me. "Care to accompany me to Starbucks?"

She sees my surprised look and shrugs weakly. "Coffee always helps," she says simply. _Coffee won't help me get over Hazel, _I vow, but nonetheless, Monica tells me to meet her at the café.

I get into my car and rev the engine.

* * *

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	2. Conversation at Starbucks

**Hello(:**

**xxFallenVampirexx: okay, i'll keep that in mind(: thanks!**

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**atomicamie: thanks okay!**

* * *

I walk into the café and see that I'm early. Funny. Monica isn't here yet.

Shrugging, I walk up and order a latte and a few cookies (no man can get enough of cookies) and sit down in an empty table to eat.

I must have finished half the cookies before Monica walked in.

When the door swished open and her face appeared, I stopped eating.

She was a knock-out.

She'd pulled her hair into a bun, put on some edgy heels and changed into a mini-skirt and blouse. I also noted that Monica had re-touched up on make-up, which was probably why she'd taken so long.

Monica notices me and waves, and then holds up her index finger to say that she'll just be a sec. Then she turns and starts to order.

Slightly dazed, a look away and stare at the half-bitten cookie in my hand. I'm suddenly a lot hungrier.

. . .

I'd hoped Augustus wouldn't mind.

I decided to detour back home to quickly redress (hell, I looked terrible). I checked my mirror and noticed my runny mascara and pouty red eyes, and decided I couldn't show up in a café like that. So, being a lady like I am, I changed.

I didn't think it would take that long, but once I emerged into Starbucks, I saw Gus half-way through his snack. It made me blush a little, but I waved and he couldn't stop staring at me … I think he managed a weak wave too?

He's that kind of guy: tall, lean, and totally fills his t-shirt. He's dressed in baggy sweat-pants and high-tops. He can make even the simplest clothes look good on him.

I still feel his eyes trained on me as I order a small biscuit and some coffee. I shouldn't be having caffeine at this hour, but I need to wake up my sluggish brain. Isaac's death still haunts me.

Isaac.

I breathe in quickly and thank the lady, then swiftly grab my tray and head to Gus.

"Hey," he says quietly. Then he bites into a cookie.

"Hi," I say in an equal tone. Gus stares at my biscuit. "Not that hungry?" he teases. I shrug and take a bite. "Not after …"

Gus nods once. "Yeah," he agrees.

He finishes his small plate of cookies and downs his latte. Having nothing to do but stare as I daintily cut my biscuit into quarters, he starts a conversation.

"I thought you didn't like Isaac."

I wince. "No, my _mom _didn't like Isaac," I correct. Gus gives me a long look. "Ohhhhh."

It just takes six words to explain my dilemma.

Gus reaches forward and snags a piece of biscuit. "Hadn't had these for a long time," he muses. I slap his arm playfully and he swallows down the tiny piece. Grinning, he crosses his arm on the table and leans forward, careful to chew in front of my face.

"Bad boy," I say. One of his eyebrows rises. "You don't know how sexy that sounds when you say that," he says. "Like Hazel."

His eyes grow pained when he says the name of his lost loved one. I grimace. "I know," I say quietly, reaching forward and wiping a crumb off from the corner of his mouth. "I know."  
Gus sighs and leans back again and I start eating my biscuit and drinking my latte almost hurriedly. I want more time to talk with this guy.

"Memories never fade do they?" Gus says sadly. I nod. "Ever."

He gazes at me for a long time, enough to make me feel slightly bashful. "I know where Isaac came from," he murmurs. "You're beautiful."

I blush.

"But," Gus looks away. "I can't betray Hazel."

I'm confused. "What do you mean?"

Gus stares straight into my eyes and I smile slightly. He takes in a small breath. "I like you, Monica."

Already?

He sees the question in my eyes and nods. "You're like Hazel. I fell for her the first time I met her. And now I know you aren't a bitch like Isaac thought. Your mom is. No offense," he adds. He purses his lips."But I can't betray Hazel."

My voice grows soft. "What about Caroline?"

"I never loved Caroline."

I swallow and nod. "I understand," I say finally, slightly sad that I can't have a chance with him. Augustus Waters is as handsome as Isaac was, but yet, he can't love me because of Hazel.

It's almost cruel and romantic in the same way.

"Well," I say, finishing my small meal, "I have to go. Nice talking to you, Gus."

Augustus takes my hand. "Leaving so soon?" he says, trying to usher playfulness into his voice. I nod. "Guess so."

Augustus's face falls. "Oh. Okay. Can I see your phone first?"

I know what he's going to do but I give it to him. Augustus enters his number in my contacts and looks up. "If we ever need each other again," he explains. I smile. "I'm thinking I'll be using your number pretty soon," I tease. Gus beams. "Okay. See you then."

And then I'm out of Starbucks and heading home, my heart fluttering.

. . .

monica_: hey gus

gus w: whats up(:

gus w: I knew you'd text me (:

monica_: yea well isaac's death's been hard on me):

monica_: you're the only one I know that has gone through the same…

gus w: yea. I know.

monica_: okay my mom's acting up again meet you in the library?

gus w: okay stay alive until then(;

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**review?:3**


	3. Emergency

**Hello.**

**Someone the World Forgot: good question, lol XD I totally wasn't thinking of that and i'm so glad you told me ... i guess Monica vaguely heard about caroline when she died?**

**mjsartgirl: thanks!(:**

* * *

"Monica? Where are you going?"

I whirl around and find my Mother, hands on her hips and lips pursed. I glance at the car keys in my hands and plaster a weak smile on my face. "Mother. I'm just visiting the library."

"Are you going to see that blind boy again?" Mother snarls. Bile rises into my throat. "No," I reply. "He's dead."

Mother stops for a minute, then stares harshly at my purse, which is slung onto my shoulder. "Lon would never meet you at the library," she said quietly.

'Lon' is the rich man Mother has set me up with. 'Lon' is the man I don't love.

"I'm not meeting Lon." I reply, making my way out the door. Mother rushes after me. "Then who are you meeting?" she demands.

"No one," I lie. With that, I open the car door swiftly and shove the keys into the ignition, rolling the car out of the driveway almost hurriedly. "Wait!" Mother cries. I stick my middle finger up in the air in her direction and speed off, knowing that I will pay when I get back. For once, I don't worry what punishments I'll get when I return home. I'm just relishing my revenge.

I was in a hurry to meet Augustus because my nerves were starting to act up, but little did I know, I was going over the speed limit. The redlights were malfunctioning and instead of glowing in the yellow light, they jumped right to the red.

I screeched to a halt at the cross section, but that didn't stop the car in front to barrel into me.

. . .

It was taking Monica awfully long to go to the library.

Suddenly, my cell phone buzzed. I picked it up hastily.

"Hello?"

"Is this the residence of Augustus Waters?"

"Yeah, what is it?"

"It seems that Monica Simpson is currently residing in the hospital. Please come at your earliest convenience."

"Okay…thanks."

I jumped up and pushed in my chair and headed out of the library, almost running to my car.

* * *

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**Die**

**Lose all her memory**

**Get back to normal**

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**ellie**


	4. The Doctor

**Hello:)**

**Sorry for the hold-up. Anyway, this is probably the last chapter ... **

"She's dead."

The words hit me like a bomb and send me reeling, almost toppling me over, almost consuming me. I replay the past events in my head, not daring to believe that I had began to fall for a girl that (a) Was the ex of my best friend, (b) I met right after my girlfriend died, and (c) Had a hell of a mom.

But despite all that, despite all the _is it okay's,_ I still feel like it's not real and it's just fake and the doctor is a freaking liar. Time seems to slow and all the noises blend together into some oddly shaped, oddly sounding world that's swimming around me. No. No. No. This isn't real. This is a _dream. _This isn't life.

"Would you like me to take you to her?" the doctor asks.

I stumble back. "W-What?"

"I said," the doctor repeats patiently, "Would you like me to take you to her?"

"What, to her _corpse?" _I snap. The doctor's eyes narrow. "No," she says. "To her body. The body that still has a tiny amount of life in it."

My hands grow cold and I swear my heart stops. Monica. Is. Alive?

"You're lying!" I shriek. "No," she replies, "I'm not."

I rake my hands through my hair in exasperation and frustration and relief. All these emotions are just adding to the stress and in that moment, I wish that humans were never created with love and affection. While love mends, it _destroys. _How do I know? It's destroying me.

"Where," I say instead of screaming. "Where is she?"

The doctor turns, and without answering, starts to walk down the hall. I quickly pace after her, wanting to surpass the blonde in front of me, but _no, _she just has this snail-like pace that I'm repeatedly cursing.

"Here," she finally says. "She's in here."

I burst into the room and I'm hit with the sight of Monica, my poor sweet Monica, connected to wires and tubes with chemicals still pumping in her veins and her _skin, _oh Jesus her _skin, _so pale and white that for a second I'm confused. This is an albino, not Monica.  


"While she's still alive," the doctor whispers, "You must cherish those moments." I turn towards her, just for a second, and see this pained, sad look in her eyes. She must have seen so many people die, I think. So many people's lives just slip right out of her fingers like coins spill out of her grasp and she can't save them like she's expected to.

But she can't save Monica's either.

I rush towards the hospital bed and I knelt before her, this ghoulish creature that has her cold hands folded ceremonially on her torso and her long lashes brushing the under part of her eyes. This girl that I've learned to love in 48 hours that's already captured my heart.

"Monica?" I whisper.

"Augustus," she breathes. Her eyes, for a second, flutter open and she glances up at me. "I knew it was you," she whispered.

"How?" I asked gently, though immediately regretting it; I didn't want to push her any further. She looked so fragile, so _delicate. _Not the head-strong Monica I knew.

"It's like ... I can ..." she swallowed uncomfortably. "I can like ... _feel _you." Her eyes closed. "Is that ... is that crazy?"

"No," I replied. "No, not at all."

Monica cracked a smile. "Augustus Waters, always so kind and gentle and humble."

"And handsome," I added. Monica opened her mouth and let out a raspy laugh, so weak that I could've mistaken it for a cough. "Yes," she murmured. "That too." She regathered her thoughts, then said: "Gus, you know I was always jealous."

"What?"

"Jealous."

"How? You had _Isaac."_

"No. Not anymore. Not anymore because of my_ goddamned mother."_

I sighed and rested a hand on her forehead. Monica's eyes opened again. "I was always jealous of _Hazel, _Augustus."

Her words are so crazy that I laugh out loud. _"How?" _I gasp. "Monica, Hazel had _cancer."_

"I know." Monica pouted. "But she had you."

I sucked in a breath.

"I never knew how beautiful you were before I met you," I admitted. "I always knew," Monica said in response. Her face tightened. "But," she added, "I know I don't have much more time."

I shook my head grimly and felt the undersides of my eyes tremble, a blockade against tears that were about to burst.

"Augustus?"

"Mmm?"

"Can you ... can you do one favor before I die?"

"Anything, Monica."

Monica's eyes grew devilish. "Kiss me."

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for you to say that," I breathe. She smiles. "Kiss me," she urges. "Kiss me before I go."

"How can I say no?" I say quietly, leaning forward. Monica, her arms still attached to tubes and as heavy as lead, can't do a thing as I bend over her, my lips gently brushing over hers like butterfly wings. I feel her stiffen beneath me and I deepen the pressure of my lips on hers, just enjoying the taste of her mouth. And then, when my lips are truly dancing with hers, I can't help but yearn for more moments like this, more time, but God, damn the Lord, he didn't lend it to us. And that's exactly why we can't waste a second.

I know I look silly with my ass up in the air and my fingers cupped around Monica's cheek, but I don't care. This beautiful, dying girl has asked me to kiss her as her one last dying wish, and Holy Jesus, I'm going to live up to her expectations.

Finally, when our mouths separate, Monica exhales and smiles at me. "Augustus Waters," she croaks. "You are one hell of a kisser."

I smile. "I know," I reply.

Monica smiles once more and lets out a sigh, then closes her eyes.

. . .

"I know you loved my daughter."

I turn around, just outside the hospital door, hands stuffed in my pockets and my insides cold. There, the same doctor that had led me into Monica's room, stood at the top of the steps, gazing down at me with this sad, painful look in her eyes.

So this was Monica's mother.

I swallow and avert my gaze. "I did," I said.

Monica's mother smiled with the corner of her mouth. "I heard everything," she admitted.

My cheeks grow warm. "You did?" I say.

Monica's mother nods. "Yes. _Everything. _If only I'd known ..." she draws in a shaky breath. "Augustus Waters, my daughter was a fearless one. She hated to be bossed around, even to be _told _what to do. And that's all I've done her entire life."

I bite the inside of my cheek. No surprise there.

The doctor wipes at her eyes, closing them, trembling, looking as if she were about to collapse on the steps herself. "I ... before you came in," she says, trying to gather herself, "I visited my daughter." By the far away look in her eyes, I guessed that it hadn't gone well.

"Monica ..." the doctor takes in a deep breath. "Monica wasn't even conscious. At least I thought she was. But when you walked in ..." Monica's mother shook her head slowly. "Augustus, did you know I spoke to her for fifteen minutes before you walked in? And did you know ... did you know that she didn't even bat an eye at my words? I was so certain that she was already lost, and yet, her monitor still said she was alive. And then _you _visited ... and then Monica was _awake. _Just like that. not like she woke from sleep or anything, she was _awake the whole time _and faked that she wasn't in front of me. And the last word she spoke of me ..."

I feel my heart twist.

"The last thing she spoke of me was how damned I was."

I looked down.

"And she's right. I've been such a hell of an excuse for a mother."

She slowly walks down the steps and stops in front of me. I swallow. "She complained to me," I admitted. "And she probably wasn't very fond of you. But ... you must know, you will _always _have a place in your daughter's heart. Even now that she's in heaven, she remembers you and hopefully she's looking down upon us now, hearing your apology, hearing your words. I think ... ma'am, I think that forgiveness has been given."

At that moment, a single tear slips down the doctor's cheek and we embrace, awkwardly at first, but it's still some sort of hug. I'm taller than her and as she buries her head in my shoulder and cries, I look up towards the cloudless blue sky and remember Monica Simpson - fearless, brave, loving, feisty.

And as her mother slowly soaks up my jacket, I think back to both Monica and Hazel, probably already talking in the clouds. And here I am, down on Earth, the luckiest man on the planet to have known two beautiful souls.


End file.
